Peppermint Creek Inn Read Online Free PDF Page A

his body along his spine, all the while checking for broken bones or blood and loving the feel of his hard masculine flesh against her fingertips.
    She didn’t miss the large bulge between his legs as it pressed anxiously against his tight jeans.
    Well! At least that part seemed in perfect working order.
    Gosh, it sure was getting hot in here. Struggling out of her ski jacket, she whipped it away and continued the search to his lower back.
    Suddenly he groaned and that’s when she felt the warm stickiness.
    Blood.
    Oh, shit!
    Struggling with the sleeves of his jacket, she managed to free it from his body and tossed it onto a nearby chair. Pulling up the damp black woolen sweater, the moist blue jean shirt and the once white T-shirt, she, as delicately as possible, rolled the unconscious man onto his side.
    “Oh. My. God,” she whispered trying hard to ignore the horrible chills racing up her spine as she stared at the puncture wound in his lower back.
    There was no doubt in her mind what had caused it.
    A bullet.
    —
    An hour later with the storm still hammering away outside her home, Sara dropped the blood-soaked bullet into the fancy Niagara Falls plate she’d bought on her honeymoon.
    After she’d wrangled the clothes from his bruised and battered body, she’d boiled water and quickly collected the things she’d need to remove the bullet. The injury hadn’t been too deep after all. Practically a flesh wound, the bullet having lodged itself in the fleshy part of his lower back. As far as she could tell, it had missed anything vital. However, he’d bled like a stuck pig and that accounted for his weakened condition.
    Promptly she applied a poultice of her homemade peppermint antiseptic ointment to the bullet wound and bandaged it into place.
    The dark-haired stranger stirred briefly as Sara tenderly touched the large bump on his temple. Someone had hit him. Hard. Too hard.
    Sighing heavily, her weary gaze wandered to the knotty-pine bed in which the stranger lay. Her husband had built it and he’d done a pretty darn good job of it, if she said so herself.
    Slowly, she reached out and lovingly ran her hot palm along the smoothness of the pine headboard. She’d enjoyed watching Jack’s powerful sawdust-covered arms plane the sweet-smelling wood. His arms had sailed back and forth until the knotty pines would burst forth glistening happily like newly polished gems. A gentle sheen of sweat had covered his brow and his muscles had bulged proudly in his arms.
    Dried glue oozed from the corners where the joints of wood had been pressed tightly together. Even the great amount of sanding hadn’t dissolved the white substance shining through the stain in excess. All she had left of her husband was his handmade furniture and the memories. Memories of hard-working days dotted with a few carefree ones. Never thinking about tragedies that could befall them in the future. Never realizing just how little time they had had left together.
    —
    Through the entire night and the next day a fever raged through the unconscious stranger and Sara kept herself busy by dousing his shivering yet heated body with cool peppermint water and anxiously checking to see if the phone lines were working.
    They weren’t.
    But one good thing had come out of this man entering her life. She was horny. So damn hot and horny she’d forgotten what it had felt like to be a woman. Every time she tugged the sheets off his gorgeous, wounded body and touched his burning skin, she wanted to climb onto him and allow his semi-erect swollen shaft to slide deep into her.
    She hadn’t felt this hot since…well, never. Not even with her husband. With him it had been a sweet kind of love, a caring partnership between two people who wanted kids and who wanted to grow old together.
    Life with Jack had been…nice.
    Just looking at this guy’s hard, toned body complete with bulging muscles in his arms and the biggest cock she’d ever had the pleasure of seeing